“What is that? Esva?” She hung up the dress and considered what was in the closet to wear — all elfin gowns and the sexy white nightgown that she didn’t feel like wearing. She wanted the familiar comfort of cotton. Had her shorts dried yet?
“An esva is all the spells scribed into a clan’s spell stones.”
“Wait. Fire? Wolf Who Rules is Wind Clan.”
“He is both. He is the only one of his family that can access both Clan’s spell stones. It was expected that he would chose to be Fire Clan, but he chose Wind Clan instead.”
“Why?” She found the t-shirt she had borrowed off of Oilcan and sniffed at it. It was a little stinky. She wondered when Oilcan had last washed it.
“I can guess it was because he was born and raised in the Wind Clan,” Pony said. “Such things are hard to ignore, but I can not be sure. You will have to ask him.”
The bedroom door opened and another of Windwolf’s sekasha, Bladebite, stepped into the room. His gaze went down over Tinker; it was the heated calculating look a male gives a female. Suddenly the bra, underwear and diamond necklace that had been plenty of clothes with Pony felt like nothing.
She clutched the t-shirt to her chest. “What is it, Bladebite?”
“It is time you finished your First Hand. I came to offer myself to you.”
Oh shit. What should she do? She’d managed to screw up every single one of these encounters over the last two months, entering relationships with a careless ‘yes.’ After the look he’d given her, though, she didn’t want to say yes — but would ‘no’ be a deadly insult? She started to turn toward Pony, but Bladebite caught her arm, forcing her to look at him.
“This is between you and I, not him.” Bladebite said. “You’re making your preferences fairly clear to us all, but they’re not wisely thought out. I have the experience you need. You should fill your Hand with strong males, not mutts like Singing Storm.”
“What the hell is wrong with her?”
“Since you obviously have no taste for Galloping Storm Horse…” Bladebite used Pony’s true elfin name.
“I love Pony.” She snapped, and blushed red as she realized it was true. When did that happen? “Things have changed since we left Aum Renau. We’ve been through a lot together.”
“And if a fruit is tempting, you take a bite when you’re most hungry.”
What the hell did that mean?
“I offer all of me to you,” Bladebite continued. “Do you accept?”
“I–I — I,” she stammered. I don’t know what the hell to say. The bedroom’s dressing mirror was behind Bladebite. She could see Pony; his jaw was clenched but he made no move to interfere. Apparently Bladebite was right — it was up to her to say yes or no. Her reflection reinforced that she was nearly naked, the glitter of diamonds the only thing visible besides the t-shirt clutched to her chest. She never thought of herself as short, either, until something like this forcibly reminded her that the elves were all a foot taller.
“I can’t make that decision now,” she finally managed to force out. “I’m upset and not thinking clearly.”
“You don’t need to think. Just accept me.”
Not think? Gods, he might as well be saying not breathe. “No.” And then seeing the look on his face. “Not now. I’m too upset.”
“We can’t afford another spectacle—” Bladebite started.
But apparently she’d said the magic words. Pony’s “on duty” light went on, and he shifted from behind Tinker to between her and Bladebite.
“Tinker ze domi,” Pony used her most formal title and High Elvish, “said that she is upset and will decide later. Please, Bladebite, go.”
The words were polite but Pony’s tone was cold as steel.
Bladebite gaze locked with Pony’s. For a moment, she was afraid that the older sekasha would draw his sword. He nodded though and bowed slightly to her. “Good night then, ze domi.”
She started to shake when the door closed behind him.
“I am sorry, domi. Until you refused him, I could not act.”
“Was I right to say no?”
“I am disappointed only in him. He has the years to know that you were upset and could not make such decisions.”
She got dressed, annoyed that her hands still shook. Why was she veering all over the place emotionally? Maybe she was going to get her period. Usually she wasn’t this hormonal, but she hadn’t had one as an elf yet. Oh, she hoped that wasn’t the case; thousands of years like this would drive her mad. How often did elves get periods? It had been over two months since her last one as a human. Oh gods, what if she was pregnant? Of course that made her feel weepy again.
“I need something to drink.” She said. “Can you ask Poppymeadow to find us a bottle of—” What was that stuff called again? “Ouzo?” Wait, if she was pregnant, should she be drinking? And if she was just getting her period, what did elves use? Pads? Tampons? Magic? Hopefully a period only lasted the normal five days — surely even elves couldn’t do — that — for more than a week. Damn it, when Windwolf made her an elf, he should have given her an owner’s manual for her new body.
She fumbled with her necklace and failed to get it off. “Oh please, Pony, get this off me.”
Pony undid the necklace. “I will get you something to eat and drink, and then perhaps you should take a nap. You have been through much lately, domi, and you are worn down.”
“I want to practice magic.” She needed to learn how to protect her people.
“It would be difficult and dangerous the way you are now.”
She supposed that was true. “Okay, okay. Something to eat and a nap — and I need to talk to Stormsong about — female — things.”
Chapter 10: Storm Warnings
Wolf had watched his domi retreat with concern. He expected her to be gnawing at the prince’s ankles instead of breaking down into tears. He felt guilty for chiding her as he had. The oni must have affected her more deeply than he originally thought. He felt badly too that he had been pleased that she hadn’t bedded Little Horse while they were prisoners together; he wanted her to himself as long as possible. Perhaps, if she had slept with Little Horse, she would have fared better.
At least she had turned to her beholden when she lost control of her emotions. As much as Wolf wished he could have taken her back to the enclave and comfort her, all of his people and the humans of Pittsburgh needed him to stay and deal with Prince True Flame.
Is this how the humans lived all their life? Having things that they desperately wanted to do — comfort their love ones, teach them what they needed to know — but with no time to do it? No wonder they seemed to rail at life so.
True Flame sat watching him, expression carefully neutral.
“Being the pivot—” Wolf sighed and shook his head. “It has subjected her to extraordinarily difficult choices. She’s only had hours to recover her center.”
“This is recovered?”
“No, and it worries me.”
True Flame glanced away, as if embarrassed by what he saw on Wolf’s face. “Forgiveness, Wolf. We get along because we both have no need for empty politeness — but I remember now that politeness can render much needed gentleness to the soul. I will keep my sword sheathed from now on.”
“Thank you.”
“There will be nothing that I can do when the Stone Clan arrives except to remind them that she is under my sister’s protection. She will have to interact with them, and they will take advantage of her.”